


I Know My Rider

by Mnemos9



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Castiel, Established Relationship, M/M, Penetration, Porn, Possessive Dean, Post season nine, Quickie in-between jobs, Rough Public Sex, Seducer Castiel, Smut, Top Dean, against a vending machine, assuming nothing changes thaaat much, on the road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:10:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemos9/pseuds/Mnemos9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas catches up with Dean in-between jobs. It's been way too long for either of them and at this hour everyone's either asleep or too preoccupied with their own shrewd matters to care. They don't wanna wake Sam, and there is that nook beside the vending machine in the courtyard...</p><p>They really missed each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know My Rider

Dean wakes up with a weight pressing down on him and a hand clamped down over his mouth. His heart rate stutters almost painfully at the sudden awakening and drops only slightly when his brain registers that the weight is familiar and not a threat. The blind hunter’s hearing is already keening up in the darkness of an hour in-between night and day. He picks up the hum of the fridge with the burnt-out bulb and he picks up water rushing through the pipes as someone next door showers. Also his brother’s snores just audible over the blood that begins to surge in his ears as the weight shifts. Aaaannd the low, uninhibited moan blossoming is his chest as the angel’s knee grazes his partial erection. Forcibly stifling it when Sam stirs in the next bed over, Dean gazes wildly up at the shadowy outline above him, mentally nudging Cas out the door.

The angel rushes them to the motel courtyard, pushing Dean against a vending machine that buzzes louder, as if in protest when he bounces off of it. Grunting as the last vestiges of lethargy are literally knocked out of him, Dean grins as Cas grabs ahold of his shirt. He’s in boxers and the old band shirt is so full of holes it’s _well-ventilated_ –making it perfect for messing around in the muggy a.m. of a Kansas Summer. The cement is warm and rough beneath his bare heels.

“Hell of a wake-up call.” His voice is rough with disuse and desire. Dean tries not to sound like he’s as hard up for it as Cas looks. His index finger slips through one of the larger holes in Dean’s shirt and he can imagine the starved expression on Cas’ lust-crazed features. It’s one of his personal favorites. Castiel now radiates an aura of holy challenge, as if no one-not God, not Satan, not even Dean himself can keep the angel from screwing the hunter’s brains out.

“Too long.” Cas mumbles, rubbing the patch of skin over the hunter’s pectoral he has access to while taking Dean’s hand and placing it on his rapidly hardening length.

“Don’t I know it.” Dean’s snicker is cut short by Cas’ electric touch. He knows exactly what the cheeky bastard means-it’s been eight days since they’ve seen each other.

Nuzzling into the angel’s neck, Dean strokes Cas, who huffs against his shoulder and rakes his nails against Dean’s chest. His instincts seek out the nature of Cas’ desire, Dean’s role beginning to take form in his head as he encircles the other’s body with his free arm, bringing them flush together.

Eliciting a needy sound from Cas’ trembling lips as Dean squeezes him, the hunter relishes the way the flesh strains when he bites into the angel’s jugular. He releases his hold when Cas frees Dean from his boxers, palming him properly.

“So hungry for my cock you couldn’t even get us out of the way, huh?” Cas twitches in his grip, responding shamelessly to the hunter’s low growl.

Reversing their positions, Dean pins the angel against the Pepsi machine and twists the length of the coat around to cover his left side. He unfastens the belt with a deft movement and yanks his pants down to pool at Cas’ ankles. The angel braces himself against the machine for stability as Dean takes his fingers into his mouth, slicking them with his tongue. He spreads Cas’ legs and the sight of the Heavenly creature on display for him sets Dean’s blood on fire.  As he hastily lubricates the angel’s entrance, Dean wears the same expression of disbelieving awe he did on his eighteenth birthday when Dad tossed him the keys to the Impala.

A shaky “aaah…” escapes from _his_ angel’s lips when Dean pushes his digit in impatiently, struggling to silence the internal voice that demands to be inside that tight, blinding heat _now_. The sounds of Cas coming apart are undoing him and Dean practically whines, rutting against a cheek as his middle finger pushes past the ring of clenched muscle he’s so desperate to feed his cock into.

“Dean, please.” Half-turning, Cas’ eyes glimmer in the gloom as he rocks back against Dean and holy _fuck_ if he doesn’t look like a slut as he bites back a groan.

Working Cas open unceremoniously, Dean denies himself until it physically hurts, then he brings those same fingers out with a slick pop to wet in his mouth again. Swishing the taste of Cas around on his tongue, Dean’s digits leave his mouth with a stream of saliva that drizzles down his shirt. Mixing the spit with his precum, Dean runs a hand the length of his throbbing shaft twice before he aligns himself against Cas. The air is sucked from his lungs as he plunges into the unbelievable _tightness_.

The whimper of something that sounds Enochian falls from Cas’ lips and he’s so beautiful and otherworldly and he’s _mine_ Dean thinks as he exhales sharply into the still air. He’s barely in and already the pressure around his head is so _divine_ that it hurts. It would pain Cas if he were human, the way Dean digs into the angel’s hip bones. He feels them creak, feels the hitch of Cas’ breath and somehow he tenses even more around Dean.

“Nnnngh, Cas, fuck that’s…”he trails off, gaping wordlessly as his spine discharges momentarily. Dean’s chin smacks his chest and he grounds his eyes shut in the effort to hold back for the both of them.

Cas chuckles, a genuine sound of satisfaction punctuated at the end by a low moan as Dean shifts his weight, and consequently, his angle. He must have hit something right because Cas thrusts back into him and Dean pulls out and slams in hard enough that his balls smack against his ass audibly. Smirking at the gasp wrung from Cas’ borrowed lungs, he sets a good rhythm and not for the first time, is more than thankful for his partner’s resilience.

All kinds of deliciously depraved noises are wracked from Cas as they both melt into the flow of the act. Sometimes it seems surreal, but right now the way he fits around Dean is so natural that it has the hunter thinking how insane it is that they _haven’t_ been like this from the start. Dean’s fucking him so hard that the angel’s head is knocking against the vending machine, aluminum cans clinking in time with their fornication. That first year of seriously _mind-altering_ lovemaking with Cas made Dean’s stint of crazed sex the year before Hell look like stumbling onto second base by accident. Even still, the tension from all those years of _want_ is still ingrained into his muscles. Right now it’s threatening to rip him apart as Cas undulates around him. He can’t hold it back much longer and plasters himself up along the length of Cas’ vertebrae to hiss into his ear

“Cum with me, babe.” Dean pants, raking his nails up Cas’ back and tearing the skin in his wake as he roots a hand in Cas’ hair.

“Y…yes…” He sobs as Dean spits into his free hand, closing it around the angel’s leaking and neglected cock. The hunter grins savagely and bites down on Cas’ shoulder as he drags the angel towards their orgasm. When the muscles in Cas’ groin tighten, Dean feels it.

“Fucking hot.” He mumbles, quickening his strokes, matching them to his thrusts.

Railing Cas into the damn soda machine so hard that someone’s gotta be hearing it, Dean wraps an arm around his front, fingers splaying out over his lover’s perspiration-coated collarbone. Cas swallows as Dean molds himself into the curvature of the other’s spine. He’s trying to push deeper than is even possible for his length and Cas is moving against him with half of Dean’s name forming on his ragged breath. He looks back at Dean with those fucking eyes so full of _emotion_ that those may be actual tears glittering in the darkness.

Biting back a cry when he cums, Dean gasps into the sweat-soaked hair he’s clutching so fiercely onto, locking their bodies together as his climax crashes through him. Cas joins him in two or three more strokes, spilling over in Dean’s vice grip. He muffles a yelp by sinking his teeth into his own forearm-the angel’s orgasm echoing through Dean like an earthquake, just ringing on and on. It starts to become difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. Maybe there is no distinction anymore.

In the pre-dawn, he slumps into Cas, who rests the side of his head up against the vending machine. Dean can dimly make out the condensation that forms and dies along the black panels with each puff of exaltation that leaves the angel’s slackened mouth. It doesn’t buzz anymore. It’s been a while since Cas blew an electrical fuse along with his load.

“Better?” Dean murmurs in a voice still delicate with post coital release. He kisses the back of Cas’ sweat-damp neck and tastes salt.

“Mmmmmn.” His right arm drops from its place of support and with his eyes half-closed, Cas brings a hand up to caress the side of Dean’s face. He kisses that too, smiling open-mouthed into the palm.

Eventually they separate and reclothe. The sky’s still dark as the Pit. Dean reaches out for Cas’ hand and pulls him into an embrace.

“Come with us to Boulder. It’s six and a half hours in the car with me singin’ the same tunes you’ve probably hated for years now,” he brings a hand up to scratch affectionately through Cas’ drying locks. “Sam whining the whole time, making me pull over every fifteen miles so he can piss like a freakin’ girl,” Cas buries his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. It does something almost painful to his heart and for a second Dean forgets what he was saying as he tries to remoisten his throat.

“And he says it might be some big bad coven he had a run-in with during that year with Samuel, but it sounds more we’re dealing with a remake of _The Craft_ to me so…” he pulls back to shrug and cups the angel’s scratchy cheek in his palm. “Apart from gothy jailbait that might try to curse your junk off,” here he frowns and glances down between the two of them with concern before shaking his head and looking up. “It’ll all probably be pretty routine and lame,” _but I want every second with you I can possibly get_.

“But you know, I was thinki-“ maybe Cas already heard him. He leans in, bringing their lips together and completely ignoring the morning breath Dean hasn’t had a chance to brush away yet.

They kiss regardless, tenderly and unrushed for once. If Dean makes it back to Heaven when he dies, 90% of it will be moments like this-he’s sure of it. The sound of their lips parting sends a shiver up the hunter’s spine that has nothing to do with the fact that he’s standing out here in his underwear.

“I would enjoy that very much,” Cas intones against Dean’s lips before smooching him again. “but I call shotgun this time.” Dean laughs quietly, surveying him with pride before he kisses the angel on the forehead.

He thinks of that night years ago when they had stood panting in the alley outside the brothel. Dean had slung his arm around this creature’s shoulders and had smiled at him through the terror of love sparking to life for the first time.

“Cuz you just had to give Sam something else to bitch about.” His words fail to carry the annoyance behind them. Kind of impossible to care when Cas is beaming at him like that.

Lifetimes have passed since that moment. Everytime he lost Castiel, a piece of the World died. And everytime he found him again, Dean’s heart would ache with the realization of how much Cas had come to fill it. Now as he holds what damn well feels like the other half of himself in his arms, he beams back.

“I promise it’ll be worth it.” The angel actually winks at him, grinning lopsidedly in a fashion he’s picked up from years of watching Dean score with women. His cheeks burn under the look when its’ re-directed at him.

“You’re worth anything,” he says, squeezing the angel’s hand in his own. “Even cheesy romantic closers like this.” Dean nudges Cas towards the busted machine, pushing him gently against it as he takes his face in both hands and plants a loving kiss to the only pair of lips he ever wants to taste again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the lyrics of _Travelling Riverside Blues_ by Led Zeppelin.
> 
> And this fic is partially inspired by [this](http://i60.tinypic.com/1zqft5j.jpg) beautiful piece, which I tragically have no credit for. If anyone knows the artist, please tell me!
> 
> Usual deal-I crave comments like our boys crave the constant reassuring presence of each other <3 And criticism has no value unless you give it some, so make it constructive please!
> 
> This is my first serious attempt at writing after one of those big huge life-changing events :/ It's been really hard to do much of anything, let alone write-especially for my OTP. I have an unfinished project that I started prior to said event and have made agonizingly slow progress on it since. So this is a test, I suppose, to see if I can do it again and I have a pretty good feeling about it so far :D now to finish the other one in-between picking up all the rest of the pieces, eh? *hugs Cas and Dean in my head for support and just enjoys being the meat of the sandwich for a moment* I need to sleep.
> 
> And hey! *hugs all you precious assbutts too* Without you, dear readers, these stories would just accumulate in my head until I had no more room for things like social cues, basic understanding of written language or the ability to breathe. So thanks for sponging up all this smut from my brain, it's very appreciated :3


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